The Mirror of Erised
by American Punk
Summary: What do Severus and Hermione see when they look into the Mirror of Erised? And how does a nosey headmaster get himself involved? Possible continuation, or could be a oneshot. You decide because I'm too lazy to do so myself.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did. Way OOC and I like it that way.

It's an addiction. One of many I have, such as good wine, books, art, classical music, and _her_. It's sad really. I have to come here every night just to see what will never become. The Mirror of Erised: an addiction that only exists because of her. It shows what my heart desires most, and every time I look into it I see the two of us together. So every night I come, and every night it is the same. I pine (if Severus Snape, the great git of the dungeons can even do such a thing) for a future that is unattainable, and for a woman who I long for, but can never have. It all comes back to her. She is my obsession, my Achilles' Heel. If she were not here, I would not be in such a position, and yet would my life be worth living without her? I see her at every staff meeting and every summer when everyone else goes to their homes, we stay. She does not wish to go to the home she shared with her late parents, and I have no where I'd rather be than near her.

She is not like the other women I have met. Most of them fear me, and back away, she challenges me. She is not intimidated by me, and hasn't been since she was in her Sixth year. Now she's returned as a teacher. Defense against the Dark Arts, it would figure that she would get the position I have wanted for years, and that she would be the one who would remain in that position for more than a year. She would be the one to break the spell. Is there anything she can't do? She's even done something that everyone thought was impossible. She's made this foolish former death eater fall in love, and she doesn't even know of her triumph, and she never will.

"Severus, my boy. This isn't good for you. No one should waste his or her life staring at an image the way you do. It's not healthy."

"Albus, have I ever done what is best for me?"

The question hangs in the air as the headmaster surveys me critically.

"This is worse than harming your body, this is contorting your soul."

"I have no soul. I sold it to the devil the day I took the mark. I have nothing but this. Would you begrudge me the only moments of happiness I allow myself?"

"Severus, go to her."

"I'm not good enough for anyone, let alone Hermione." Her name floats from my lips like a blessing, but to my poor deformed heart it is a curse.

"We are never good enough for the women we love. It's why they were made to have sympathy for us. If you let your presumption that she cannot love you rule your life, then she won't because she'll never know you."

"I am better left with my thoughts and fantasies of a life we could have, than to have any hope destroyed with a single word."

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I watched him leave, my confusion overwhelming me.

"Me?"

The Headmaster turned to me with a nod.

"Yes, Hermione."

"But he's never given any indication in the past years that he feels anything other than the cold aloofness he shows everyone. Why me? It's not even logical."

"Love as anything but logical. You're stuck with a very difficult job now, Ms. Granger."

"What's that?"

"Showing him the truth."

I watched the Headmaster leave, and felt a bit frustrated. I'm supposedly the brightest witch of my age, and yet I have no clue how to show Severus how I feel. I walked to the Mirror of Erised and glanced at the image that swirled in its crystalline depths. Severus and I, together, the same thing it has showed me for years. No hint of how to get there is reflected in the glass.

I guess some answers can't be found in books or in mirrors. Damn.

A/N: I think that I'm going to end it here, unless you guys want me to continue. Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated.

--American Punk--


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own it, God, the world is so cruel.

This Chapter is dedicated to **FarmerLiz** for being a wonderful reviewer and for giving me a very good suggestion.

**Of all pains, the greatest pain, is to love, and to love in vain. –George Granville**

I've noticed, over the years, there has been a drastic change for Hermione. In her first six months of teaching, she would receive one or two letters a week. After that, she would receive a letter every fortnight or so. Now, she receives letters only on special occasions. The holidays she usually has one from Potter, but it's rare that she has one from Weasley now. Perhaps they had some falling out.

This year it seems her friends who had once gravitated toward her for many things have forgotten her birthday altogether. The morning post has come and gone, and yet she has received nothing. She must be used to the reclusive life of a teacher now, but still, to go from two friends who had once sat by her bedside as she lay petrified, to not even getting a letter on her birthday must be quite disheartening.

One would not notice, unless of course they were staring at her, as I am now, that her smile faltered at the astonishing lack of acknowledgement of her twenty-third birthday. The slip in her mask was brief and I saw her hide behind her façade of cool disinterest. Another of the things that has changed about her is her ability to mask her feelings. As a student, she wore her heart on her sleeve, which made her an easy target for a few of my more sadistic Slytherins. Now apparently she has seen the good in hiding how she feels.

I sigh, admonishing myself for my foolish thoughts. Am I truly so masochistic that I have to stare at what I will never have? Am I so twisted that I know the exact movements of her hands as she reaches up to brush back the untameable curls of auburn hair? I am a man possessed.

How can I not be in love with her? When she first came to teach, freshly graduated I might add, I expected her to be like the same insufferable chit she was in her years at Hogwarts. She once again proved me wrong; I believe that she merely spouted facts from the textbook like some intolerable fountain. Not a week passed before I realised that I was wrong, and she was much more intelligent than I had previously given her credit for her. Now that she was finally away from those fatuous fools she called her friends, she was able to blossom intellectually in a spectacular way.

She became my equal over the years and I admit that though I didn't see it coming I should have. There has only been one other teacher besides her who had been asked back to teach the first semester immediately following their graduation: me.

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Happy Birthday to me. It may as well have been just another day. It hurts to see that a friendship that endured death and a battlefield could come to this. There is not a single note of acknowledgement of my twenty-third birthday.

Truth be told, I expected this from Ronald, who never got over the fact that I'd rather stay and teach than become Hermione Weasley. I shudder at the thought now. How I could have ever considered Ron as a romantic option amazes me. I do believe that after a month of him blathering on about the Chudley Cannons, or whatever they were called, I would have strangled someone—preferably him.

Ah, to be young and horribly naïve.

Now, to the matter at hand, how am I to show Severus how I feel about him? I suppose I could always just tell him, but I would obviously make a muck of it with my less than non-existent social skills. If I were going to just tell him how I feel, I may as well just push him against the wall of the dungeons and kiss him.

Hmmm, I suppose the idea has some merit. Perhaps that should be plan 'B.'

Maybe if I had spent less time pouring over every book the library has to offer and more time doing whatever it was that the other girls my age did I wouldn't be such a social degenerate.

What were the other girls my age doing? As far as I could tell they spent most of their time mooning around the boys they had a crush on that week and giggling whenever Harry strode past. How on earth is that supposed to help me? Am I supposed to make sheep's eyes at Severus and giggle whenever he's anywhere near me?

Merlin, I hope not.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews everyone! I've never received so many for one chapter, and they were all positive. All but one person said I should continue with this story, so here I am! Review?


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